


Manipulate My Decisions

by runaway_train



Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Competition, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smut, dom/sub undertones (very light)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runaway_train/pseuds/runaway_train
Summary: “But… but…” Niall stammers, trying in vain to think of another reason as to why he shouldn’t have to do them. He comes up empty-handed. “Shawn, I feckin’ hate doing the dishes.”Shawn intertwines his fingers together and rests them on his stomach, narrowing his eyes and looking at Niall for a long moment in silence. Niall’s about to ask him what he’s thinking about when he speaks. “I’ll tell you what, babe, let’s have a little competition, and whoever loses has to do them.”He’s playing into Niall’s competitive streak. Clever. Niall can’t help but be intrigued. “OK. What’s the game?”OrThe one where Niall and Shawn have a minor disagreement on household chores and Shawn comes up with a rather unique way of settling it once and for all.





	Manipulate My Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little smutty one-shot I did for the [Wanker's Day Fic Fest](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/184575501455/may-is-international-masturbation-month-in-honor). Thank you to Lauren ([kingsofeverything](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/)) for coming up with the idea!
> 
> My first Shiall fic. I love the ship so had to try it out :) Thank you to Ri for reading it over very quickly for me, but I was super last minute so there may be some errors. 
> 
> I have a Tumblr which is [here](http://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com) if you want to come say hello. The specific post for the fic is [here](https://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com/post/185208726860/manipulate-my-decisions-written-as-part).
> 
> Title is from [There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dT2owtxkU8k) by Shawn Mendes.

Niall drops his fork onto the plate with a clink and slides the empty dish onto the coffee table in front of him, sitting back onto the sofa with a groan.

“God, that was good,” he murmurs, rubbing his stomach, feeling pleasantly full.

“It was babe, good choice picking Thai over Chinese. Should never have doubted you,” Shawn replies from other end of the sofa. He’s already stretched out, having finished his meal a minute before Niall finished his own. He’s dressed in a hoodie and joggers, but no socks, choosing to keep his feet warm by wedging the front of them underneath Niall’s thigh.

“I’ll forgive you, pet.” Niall picks up the remote control. He’s sure there’s a footie game starting soon, AC Milan’s playing someone if he remembers correctly.

“Uhhh,” Shawn drawls, “What d’you think you’re doing?”

Niall glances at him as he flicks through the channels. “Was gonna stick some footie on. You don’t mind, do ya?”

“I do if you don’t do the dishes first.”

Niall pauses his finger and turns his head to face him fully. “What? How am I the one doin’ the dishes tonight?”

Shawn’s got a cute little frown on, the front of his hair curling down his forehead. “Because I did them last night.”

That’s true. Saturday’s were Shawn’s cheat day, hence the takeaway and beers, but he’s been on this healthy eating and working out kick, so Niall had chicken and steamed veg waiting when Shawn had arrived home from the gym the previous evening, with Shawn washing up afterwards as a thank you. Niall reckons he’s been pretty good at this domestic bliss shit since the couple moved in together three months ago. “But I bought the takeaway and got up to go to the door to get it from the delivery driver,” he grumbles.  

OK, he never said he was _perfect_ at it.

Shawn makes another face. “While I got the plates from the kitchen and then dished it all out. Plus I bought the beers from Sainsbury's.”

“But… but…” Niall stammers, trying in vain to think of another reason as to why he shouldn’t have to do them. He comes up empty-handed. “Shawn, I feckin’ hate doing the dishes.”

Shawn laughs. “And you think I like it?”

Niall drops the remote control back onto the armrest and twists his body a bit more towards him, reaching down and slipping his hand under the cuff of Shawn’s joggers to stroke at his ankle. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he needles, thumbing at the soft skin he finds there.

Shawn wiggles his toes into the meat of Niall’s thighs through the cotton of his shorts. “You and I both know you’re going to make it worth my while whether I wash the dishes or not.”

Niall would argue that he’s not that easy, but he is. “Please?” he asks instead, sticking his bottom lip out.

Shawn intertwines his fingers together and rests them on his stomach, narrowing his eyes and looking at Niall for a long moment in silence. Niall’s about to ask him what he’s thinking about when he speaks. “I’ll tell you what, babe, let’s have a little competition, and whoever loses has to do them.”

He’s playing into Niall’s competitive streak. Clever. Niall can’t help but be intrigued. “OK. What’s the game?” he asks, pulling his hand away and resting it on the back of the couch.

“It’s less of a game, more of a race,” Shawn says with a smirk. “The first person to come loses.”

Niall’s eyebrows raise. Despite his original offer, that’s definitely not where he thought this conversation was going to go, but he’s not complaining. “You don’t think by now I could make you come in under a minute if I wanted to?”

Shawn shakes his head, looking smug. “You haven’t let me tell you the only rule.”

“Which is?”

“We’re not allowed to touch each other.”

“What?” Niall questions. “No touchin’ at all? Dunno if I like the sound o’ that.” What’s the point in having a boyfriend as hot as Shawn if you don’t get to touch him during sex?

Shawn sits up, both feet coming down to land on the floor and he leans in closer. “You scared you’ll lose?”

“Nah, fuck it. You’re on.” There’s really not a downside to this, after all, Niall will get to an orgasm one way or another and hopefully won’t have to worry about the washing up afterwards.

“Let’s shake on it then,” Shawn says, holding his hand out for Niall to take, which he does so willingly. He grins and uses the grip he has to pull Niall in towards him, kissing him softly on the mouth before pulling away an inch. “Just remember Irish; all’s fair in love and war,” he murmurs with a teasing lilt to his Canadian twang against Niall’s lips, then backs off completely, dropping Niall’s hand again.

Niall begins to laugh, but the sound quickly dries up and his mouth falls open when Shawn tugs his hoodie off to leave him topless, throwing the articulate of clothing over his shoulder onto the floor. Shawn isn’t playing for around and Niall can feel his heart rate pick up at this rather unexpected turn of events, already drinking in his fill of Shawn’s torso. He never gets used to it, despite having been together for over two years, the look of Shawn’s half-naked form. When Shawn had walked up to Niall on Shawn’s first day of his new job to introduce himself, Niall had been awestruck at how gorgeous he was, but two months later, after their fourth date, he had got to take Shawn home and see exactly what was under those crisp shirts and neat ties worn around the office. He’s pretty sure his heart had stopped for a second that night.

Shawn sprawls himself out leisurely, feet still on the floor but knees spread wide apart, back tucked in the corner cushions, framing himself perfectly for Niall to view him. He’s not shy with it, never has been when it comes to Niall, the way he’ll shift and stretch to get comfortable, but make it a show of the muscles while he does it. He’s got a healthy praise kink and he’s not afraid to work for it.

Niall sighs. “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

Shawn’s lip twitches but he schools his face. “May have done a couple of times.” That’s an understatement if every Niall heard one. He tells him constantly because he is and it’s only fair that he knows about it. Shawn flicks his hair off his face. “You planning to take any of your clothes off any time soon or am I going to have to use my imagination?”

Niall chuckles and removes his glasses, leaning forward to leave them on the coffee table beside the plates that started this whole circumstance. Next, he reaches both hands behind him and grabs the collar of the soft fleece he’s wearing to pull it over his head, repeating the process with his t-shirt. He throws the t-shirt into Shawn’s face, who catches it and holds it up to his nose, breathing in deeply. “God, love the way you smell.” 

“And I love you.”

Shawn shakes his head as the t-shirt joins the growing pile on the floor behind him. “Uh, nope, none of that. I love you too but this is about getting off, not romantic declarations.”

He’s forgetting that Niall knows him too well. “But what if romantic declarations get you off hmmm? You trying to tell me it doesn’t get you goin’, knowing how much I love you? How crazy I am about you?”

Shawn’s mouth opens then closes again with a snap. He slides his hand down to his thigh and rolls his palm into the firm flesh there, clearly attempting to stave off the need to touch himself as he runs his eyes over Niall’s body. “Shorts off Horan, those dishes aren’t going to wait all night.” He lifts his bum to tug his joggers down.

Niall does as instructed until they’re both in just their underwear. At this point, they would be all over each other, kissing and caressing any part they wished to, and Niall can’t help but itch to reach out. He refrains, for now, the desire to win equally as strong as his desire to touch.

Niall contemplates how to start, wondering what he can do to get Shawn worked up quickly without physical contact, but Shawn beats him to it. He watches avidly as Shawn sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, lazily pumping them in and out a few times to get them wet with spit, before placing the pads onto his sternum and dragging them slowly down his skin. Niall’s cock pulses in his boxers.

When Shawn reaches his nipple, he pauses, waits for Niall to peel his eyes away from the position of his hand and look back into his eyes. “You want your mouth here, don’t you?”

Niall can picture it clearly, having Shawn naked and obedient underneath him as he journeys down his body, from his lips to his jawline, to his collarbones and beyond. That smell of his skin, the fruity traces of his post-workout shower gel mixed with the heady scent of Shawn himself as Niall’s mouth leaves a trail of moist kisses and adoration on his flesh. The quick fucks are great, but nothing is more intoxicating sometimes that the true intimacy of taking the time to explore your lover, basking in the shivers, the tremors, the nuances that make up their sensuality as you discover what really makes them tick.

“Yeah, and you want my mouth there too,” Niall tells him knowingly, licking his lips. Shawn starts to circle his nipple, getting it wet with his salivia, just like Niall so often does with his tongue. It won’t be the same for him, Niall knows, how Niall would lick at it, nibble at the bud, pull lightly with his teeth and suck the peak into his mouth as Shawn squirms, but he tries, bless him. He pinches at the dark, pink skin between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the hardening mound. He wets the fingers of his other hand in his mouth before repeating the action on the opposite nipple, working both in tandem as his breathing picks up, Niall watching on, helpless.

Niall’s hand is on his own clothed cock and rubbing at the hardening length before he can register it. Shawn grins but continues his ministrations, clearly pleased at the reaction, but he might be counting his chickens before they’ve hatched. Niall is keenly aware of the things that Shawn likes.

“Fuck, darling,” Niall effuses as he continues to palm himself, “you should see how good you look. So pretty for me.” Shawn’s grin immediately falters, not because he doesn’t like what Niall has said, but because he likes it way too much, and gets what Niall is trying to do. This is definitely going to be a battle of wills. “Can’t believe you’re mine sometimes.”

“Ni,” Shawn huffs out, pouting his lip, but fingers still working away effortlessly.

It’s Niall’s turn to grin, and he moves his other hand from where it had been gripping tightly onto the back of the sofa to run it over his chest, knowing that Shawn’s love for Niall’s physique and masculinity is just as potent as is Niall’s for his.

“Gets me hard, that someone so perfect belongs to me,” Niall says as he smoothes his hand in loose circles over his torso through his chest hair, occasionally trailing a finger down his happy trail, pleased to notice that Shawn’s own actions have slowed to an almost stop as he follows the movements closely. “I’m so lucky.”

Shawn knows he believes it to be true, that Niall’s not just saying it for the purposes of the bet, but he’s also not going to take this kind of manipulation lightly it seems. His hands drop to carve into his bare thighs and cup his thickening bulge. “You like it when I’m good for you,” he states, “when you get to prove just how lucky you think you are by doing whatever you want to me.”

Niall’s grip on himself tightens. “I do. So much.”

Shawn shocks him further by reaching into his briefs and pulling his cock out, the suddenness making Niall’s lungs stutter a shaky breath out past his teeth. He stares as Shawn fists himself to full hardness, thumbing the tip. God, he has such a gorgeous dick. If he wasn’t all Niall’s, Niall would hate him for being so bloody perfect. “Couldn’t wait any longer?”

Shawn shakes his head. “Nah, just know you’d want to see what’s yours.”

Christ, Niall wants to get his mouth around it, suckle at the head of Shawn’s beautiful dick and taste him, swallow him down to the base. It’s such a strange feeling, having what he wants so badly right there in front of him but feel powerless to do anything about it. This already feels so different, having to rely on only their eyes and ears, their imaginations, to build themselves and each other up when they would instead be relying on sense memory and touch. They’ve never done something like this together and Niall’s pleasantly surprised at how much he’s enjoying it so far.

Niall can feel the damp patch forming on the front of his briefs, and decides to remove them, digging his thumbs into the waistband and sending them careening down his thighs and shins. He lets his eyelids fall closed for a moment or two as he works his fingers through the hair at the base of his unrestrained cock and when he opens them, Shawn’s gazing down at them with a slack mouth, his slick tongue peeking out to moisten his lips.

“Wanna get my mouth on you so bad,” Shawn whispers, the speed of the swipes on his own thickness steadily increasing. “Wanna bury my face in it.” Niall can’t be sure if he’s saying it for Niall’s sake or his own. Shawn can never seem to help it, from immersing himself in proverbial playground that is the dark, coarse hair of Niall’s groin, of his chest, of his armpits during sex. It’s another thing he’s never been shy about, about how much it turns him on, always gravitating to it in one way or another. Hell, the first time he ever jerked Niall off, he did it with his face planted into the crease of Niall’s pelvis almost the entire time.

“Shit, yeah, want you on your fuckin’ knees for me, pet, let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours before I finger and fuck your hole,” Niall rasps, voice deep and razor sharp just for Shawn’s benefit.

“Ni, oh my God.” Shawn’s head lolls back onto the cushion behind him and his hands fall away from himself completely, clawing at the fabric of the sofa on either side despite no chance of finding any suitable hold there.

“What are-? Niall sits up straight, his hand coming to rest cupping his balls. “Why’d you stop.?”

“Not letting you win,” Shawn pants towards the ceiling, eyes still closed as he collects himself.

“Oh, but you will.”

Shawn lifts his head and the look of steely determination gives Niall pause. It appears Shawn’s done playing the nice guy. He speedily removes his boxers and shuffles down onto his back, bringing his knees up and planting this feet close to his body on the coach, leaving mere inches between the men. Fuck. Niall knows what he’s got planned and he’s not sure he can bring himself to stop it, his cock siphoning a pearl of pre-come from the slit just thinking about it.

Shawn’s fingers are back in his mouth, eyes boring into Niall’s as he plunges them in and out to get them soaking.

“Pet, what you doing?” Why he’s bothering to ask, Niall doesn’t know.

Shawn makes a choking sound around his knuckles, which can be nothing but deliberate. The strings of spittle when he finally removes his digits drop down on to his chin and the flushed skin of his neck. He cups his dick and balls with the other hand and presses them in close to his body, making sure Niall has a perfect view of his rim. “What’s it look like?” he sasses, as drenched fingertips begin to trace around the puckered skin.

Niall’s spits in his own hand to help the glide he needs on his negelcted prick, the familiar but welcomed tingle in the base of his spine now a sizzling firecracker, yet he’ doesn’t know how long the fuse is. He would try and not touch himself, try and hold off, but he knows that would be a fruitless mission. The only chance he has of winning the stupid, brilliant competition now is by influencing Shawn enough that he ends up fingering himself to orgasm before Niall explodes, and with every passing second, he’s feeling less and less confident because his boy looks phenomenal, dipping a long, agile finger in and out the tight rings of muscle of his core.

“It should be you doing this, babe.” Shawn heaves out. “Know how much it turns you on to open me up, get me ready for that thick, gorgeous cock of yours.” He already sounds so needy for it, and he’s only one finger in. He’s going too fast, Niall knows, and he won’t be able to get the curl of it quite right to hit the perfect spot. Niall releases a clenched hiss, battling the need in him to reach out and take over.

“It does darling, turns me on so fuckin’ much, spreading you out and fuckin’ you, filling you up and making you mine again and again.” It makes Niall feel like a God, that this strapping beast of a man, this six feet and two inches of fucking sinew and beauty can be reduced to a quivering wreck under Niall’s deftness.

Shawn whines as he works himself up to two, Niall feeling himself moving closer as he begins muttering orders of how Shawn should slow down, speed up, crook his fingers and pull out completely to tease the rim again, his body magnetised to Shawn’s centre but unable to make contact, just like the earth and moon. He could if he really want to, reach out and touch, knows Shawn wouldn’t deny him, would want it, crave it even, but Niall’s too far gone on this path to start a new one.

By the time Shawn’s got three of his fingers inside, Niall knows it’s game over. Shawn’s on the edge, he can tell from the whimpers, the jolts of his body, the goosebumps of his skin, the sweat collected at the base of Shawn’s throat, but he knows he himself is closer, having watched it all unfold from an increasingly dizzy height.

“Christ, fuck. Shawn, baby, you win OK? You fuckin’ win,” he babbles, his hand working himself over furiously. “Fuck, let me come on your face.”

Shawn’s eyes remain screwed shut, having been that way for minutes. “Yes, God, Ni, please,” he pleads.

Niall scrambles up from the sofa and takes the necessary steps across the carpet to arrive by Shawn’s head. He slides one hand round to the nape of Shawn’s neck and holds him still, striping his prick in the other and holding the cardinal head of it against Shawn’s cheek. He breathes out a reedy instruction for Shawn to look at him before painting his face in the creamy ropes of his essence, his grasp working to drain himself onto every inch of smooth skin he can manage while Shawn gazes up at him adoringly.

When he’s satisfied he’s emptied all he can, he knees down, muscles burning with the residual tension of trying to keep it together for so long. The hand still holding Shawn’s head angles his face towards him, and Niall laps at his come on Shawn’s lips, nose and chin, collecting it onto his tongue, vaguely aware of Shawn still fisting his own cock down to his left. He hums and taps on the seam of Shawn’s lips, who dutifully opens wide and lets Niall drip the spunk into his mouth, both men moaning gratuitously when Niall initiates a messy kiss when he’s done. Shawn’s whole body tenses as their lips are sealed together, coming hard with Niall tonguing in hot and needy.

When Niall finally pulls away a minute later, Shawn’s looks so fucked out, eyes glassy and cheeks pink. Niall strokes the curls away from his face. “I really enjoyed that.”

“Me too,” Shawn nods, stretching to peck at Niall’s lips again. “I won though.”

Niall chuckles. “Darling, I won the day you agreed to our first date,” he tells him, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

Shawn rolls his eyes as he smiles. “Don’t think you can worm your way out of the dishes by sweet-talking me.”

Niall’s gaze flits down to where Shawn’s legs are sprawled haphazardly and spent cock resting against the crease of his thigh. “Oh, pet, I’m gonna do all the dishes,” he informs him with a lusty kiss of his own. “And if you let me go grab the lube and fuck that wonderfully prepped hole of yours right now, I’ll do the ironin’ too.”

Shawn doesn’t take any time to think about it before his face breaks into one of his trademark grins. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are welcomed and always responded to.
> 
> I have a Tumblr which is [here](http://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com) if you want to come say hello. The specific post for the fic is [here](https://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com/post/185208726860/manipulate-my-decisions-written-as-part) if you want to be an absolute darling and give it a share.


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